


Certain Needs

by cyanideinsomnia



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Aftercare, Desperation, Dry Humping, Dubcon Cuddling, Extremely Dubious Consent, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Human Disaster Julian Devorak, Lucio (The Arcana) Is A Little Shit, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Red Plague (The Arcana), Rough Body Play, Rough Kissing, Roughness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26852518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideinsomnia/pseuds/cyanideinsomnia
Summary: “Now that you mention it,” He began, slowly, carefully pulling the belt loose on his sleep robe. “There is something I’d like you to assist me with.”
Relationships: Julian Devorak/Lucio (The Arcana)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 78





	Certain Needs

**Author's Note:**

> julian's just angy because asra hasn't been putting out
> 
> (also wanted to try some Rougher Boys to counteract fluffy boys)

“Alright, is there anything else you need me to take care of?”

Julian’s tone of voice heavily implied he wanted a negative answer to that question. 

The examination had been a long and arduous one, taking samples of blood, testing his reflexes, feeling around for any odd tissues or mysterious bruising or something - he’d stopped paying attention to the reasoning, or any further questioning for that matter, when those gentle doctor’s hands had moved somewhere south.

Just a brush, but it was enough. 

Lucio hadn’t stopped thinking about it even after he’d moved away to do something else, writing notes on an increasingly crowded piece of paper. He was still thinking about it. Oh, he did not have enough blood left in his body to think about it quite this hard.

“Now that you mention it,” He began, slowly, carefully pulling the belt loose on his sleep robe. “There  _ is _ something I’d like you to assist me with.”

He let the red silk slide open, revealing his cock, standing proud, currently in possession of most of his blood not sitting in glass jars on the table beside him. He’d almost forgotten how beautiful it was. This was becoming a rather rare event.

Julian stared at it, then at him, then back at it, a look of complete - and probably willful - incomprehension on his face.

He slid a little closer to him on the bed, shifting into a somewhat more sensual position. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s tended to  _ all  _ of my needs.”

“You have hands.”

“And they are nice hands. But they’re not always up to the task, these days.” He sighed, flexing his right hand and wincing in faux agony. “This one gets so stiff and  _ sensitive _ at night, I can barely hold onto anything.”

Julian frowned. “.. is that an actual symptom or are you making it up for sympathy?” 

“Uh. Real. Yeah, definitely real.” Lucio cleared his throat and leaned up against his shoulder, making it difficult to write it down. “Come on, now. It’s just a little favor for your good patient.” 

His doctor snorted, but said nothing.

“I haven’t felt the touch of another human being in-- how long has it been? Months? A year? And you want to deprive me even  _ longer _ ??” He whined and leaned more dramatically against him. “I’m  _ suffering _ , Jules. Do you want me to suffer?”

“Many people survive without that. You’re fine.” Julian huffed. “I mean, you’re not fine, but you’re not-- that’s not contributing to anything--”

“Please? Please please please--”

Without warning one gloved hand lashed out and tightly gripped his cock, putting a stop to his pleas with a startled squeak. The leather pressing in around him was a bit painful, and that didn’t change when he started to stroke, joyless and mechanical like any other procedure.

He tried to enjoy it, but couldn’t. It was like he was being fucked by sandpaper. 

It hurt. It hurt so much and it kept  _ going _ .

After a moment longer he whined and tried to pull free, held fast by the steady, monotonous pumping, weakly grabbing for the hand instead, slapping at it, trying to get it off him. 

“Wait-- wait,  _ stop _ \--”

But he didn’t stop, just kept relentlessly pumping him until the shudder of an orgasm that was as awkward and unpleasant as the whole ordeal made its way through his body, a soft whimper escaping his throat before he could stop it, lurching forward to catch himself on the bed as the hand drew away.

The room fell silent for a long moment, save for his own labored breaths and medical implements being put away.

That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He felt sick. Violated.

Lucio sat there and struggled to articulate just how  _ betrayed  _ he felt, eventually landing on a swift backhand across Julian’s face, using his weaker right hand to show mercy. His doctor’s hand slowly came up to hold his cheek, scowling down at him as if  _ he  _ was the one that had done something wrong.

“What the hell? You-- you didn’t have to do it like  _ that _ .”

“I didn’t want to do it at all.” Julian grunted.

“You could have just said no!” He whined, tugging his robe closed to hide the softening evidence. “What if that was the last boner I’ll ever have before I--? And you just--  _ pumped _ it like milking a cow! You  _ milked _ me!”

The scowl deepened. “That’s not my problem, Lucio. I’m your  _ doctor _ , not your-- your  _ wank maid _ . What the hell did you expect, a candlelight supper?”

“Yeah, well-- well, what if that  _ was  _ a medical treatment? What if I needed it, medically??” 

Julian snapped his bag shut and began to get up from the bed, shaking his head.

“Hysteria! Maybe I’m hysterical.” He blurted out, finally. “That’s a treatment for that, isn’t it?”

“.. hysteria is a  _ women’s  _ disease.”

“Maybe I’m hysterical anyway, Jules!”

There was a flash of something in his eyes he couldn’t quite identify - before Julian suddenly lunged across the bed, gripping him by the shoulders and slamming him back against the pillows, his expression contorted into a picture of rage he’d never seen before on those normally gentle, tired features. 

“For the last time,  _ don’t call me that _ .” He snarled.

He remained dead still, pinned beneath him, struggling to catch his breath without coughing, saving that weapon for later, somewhere between wanting him to let go and wanting him to stay here, even in this  _ unorthodox _ position. He wasn't  _ scared _ , surely. He was just caught off guard.

“What-- what are you going to do if I keep saying it, Jules?” He attempted a crooked grin, a swift deflection from the slight tremor in his body, his pulse pounding in his ears. “Are you  _ threatening _ me?” 

“Don’t tempt me. I’ve had a bad night.”

Lucio playfully nipped the air at him, encouraging an even more disgusted look. 

“Careful now, I can make it so much worse.”

In an instant he realized he was too weak to fight him off if he really  _ was  _ that reckless and stupid. He could do anything he wanted to him in this moment, and he wouldn’t be able to stop him. His breath quickened as he felt the grip on his arms tighten, shifting uneasily against the bed.

For the most part, his captor seemed content to simply stare him down, perhaps unsure of how to proceed from here. His robe had fallen open again, baring his vulnerable body to the mercy of those sharp grey eyes. He could feel the heat radiating off him, the feverish tints of a man coming down from a hangover. That explained so much. 

He briefly considered diverting his attention with the offer of a drink, some hair of the dog that bit you-- but his own attention was drawn to his own cock, raised like an incriminating banner at the other end of him, maybe a bit  _ too  _ enthralled by his disadvantaged position.

Oh, thank the gods. That wasn't his last one. Though  _ this  _ one might be, if the way Julian was looking at it was any indication.

"D-Don't worry about that." He quickly drew his thighs up to cover it, turning his head away, feeling the heat of something like shame creeping up his face. "I can take care of it myself, before you decide to rip it off my body and beat me with it."

His doctor sighed, finally letting go of him and settling back on the bed. There was a flicker of guilt on what he could see of his face. "I'm not going to rip your dick off."

Lucio kept his thighs shut, just in case. 

".. are you still feeling  _ hysterical _ ?"

He bit his lip and slowly nodded, still not looking at him.

After a long moment and another deeper sigh, warm and gentle hands - without gloves, this time - were lightly nudging his legs apart, allowing them to slide down to his hips and tug his lower half into Julian's lap, straddling his waist. 

It took him a few seconds to realize he was doing what he wanted, hesitantly pushing himself up so that he was sitting instead of lying in his lap, bracing his hands on his shoulders and shuddering in relief as he felt him start to stroke much more gently this time. His heart was still pounding from being shoved onto the bed, thighs slightly trembling.

"You realize you're not giving me much room to do this," The doctor snorted, his breath hot against his throat. 

He could feel his knuckles rubbing up against his gut, his cock almost pinned between them. The pace was maddeningly, deliciously slow, allowing him to savor the feeling of his hand around him, the warmth of his body against him, trying so hard to keep himself from bucking, urging him faster - he wanted this one to last.

"I like a tight fit." The Count murmured, digging his fingers into the fabric of his uniform, burying his face into his neck, the hand between his legs the only thing saving him from collapsing. "Fuck, don't stop.. please.."

The other hand was beginning to  _ wander _ , curious but unsure as it slid beneath his robe and along his skin, exploring him as he stroked. Arguably not that much different from being manhandled by servants to bathe him - but maybe because it was Julian, maybe just because his other hand was on his dick, the soft touches left trails of fire in their wake, burning him up inside. 

He wanted so much to pin the bastard down and have him proper, an impulse that was wrangled into a whimper and barely controlled jerk of his hips, tightening his grip on his shoulders. He knew he wouldn't allow it. He was only doing  _ this _ out of pity. He didn't want him. He’d made that very clear.

"Oh-- am I hurting you? You  _ were _ complaining of sensitivity--" 

The wandering hand paused and began to move away, and he whined and grabbed it, forcing it against his chest. The fingers seemed to realize what he wanted, stroking his nipple in time with the hand at his cock, obliterating that self-pitying line of thought. 

In return, though he wasn't sure he would allow it either, Lucio shifted to capture his doctor's lips in a deep, desperate and  _ hungry  _ kiss - and instead of pushing him away, he was pressing into it just as hungrily, startling a moan out of him. His "seat" suddenly became a bit more crowded, the hard edge of Julian's cock pressed against his thigh through his trousers.

Julian at once pulled back, clearing his throat and turning as red as the fabrics of this room, looking as if he intended to leave. "I-- ah-- sorry, I can--"

"Did I say you could stop?" He panted, reaching down between his own legs to clumsily grab for the other cock, squeezing him through his pants, encouraging a needy little moan of his own. "I-I'm not finished yet."

"But I--”

A rough stroke along the length, quickly shutting him up. The hand gripping his own cock had loosened, allowing him to angle it along the one trapped beneath fabric, pointedly grinding down against him, the answering buck of his hips nearly hard enough to send him back onto the bed.

“Nobody’s been tending to _ your  _ needs either, have they?” 

Julian slowly shook his head with something that sounded like a sob.

He grinned. “Well, go on then. Tend to them.”

Hands clumsily pawed at his body before they tightly gripped his hips, shoving him down until he was practically being crushed against Julian's cock, briefly hoping he might risk infection and let it rub against him skin to skin. The feeling of his pants pressed against sensitive flesh was just as good, however, the promise of friction with each shift of his thighs.

Once again he braced himself on his doctor's broad shoulders as he began to roll his hips, grinding up against him, his own hips twitching alongside them, riding him as well as he could. This time Julian was kissing him, voluntarily, and he groaned and leaned into it, pressing his tongue into his mouth, letting it twine around the other, the bitter taste of coffee and some long-gone ghost of alcohol drifting into his senses.

He wondered what he must taste like - blood, probably. Together they must have made one hell of a brewery.

The pace was much more haphazard and almost violent this time, as Julian's own self control had broken, his ride becoming increasingly bumpier until he thought he might be pitched off his lap. He couldn't tell him to stop, didn't  _ want _ him to stop, enjoying his frenzied desperation as much as he must have been enjoying his. 

His lips slid free long enough for them both to gasp for breath, one of those gasps sounding a lot like the beginning of a name that wasn’t his. With a low growl Lucio grabbed him by the back of the neck and mercilessly crushed it beneath his own mouth, the only part of this he could reasonably control, kissing him as if this was the last kiss either of them would ever have.

He kept hold of him even as he felt himself teetering over the edge, a much more  _ thorough _ climax ripping through his aching body, like he wanted the first time, was no longer prepared for it this time, nearly losing his grip on him as he kept bucking up against him, only stopping when warmth spread across the front of his trousers beneath him. He could distantly feel his own cum slicking his coat, wet and sticky and so much more noticeable as he was coming down.

"Ah, damn.."

Julian moved as if to lift him off his lap, murmuring apologies against his lips - but he shook his head and wrapped both arms around him, holding him closer than he probably wanted to be right now, trembling with effort to stay upright and conscious. 

"Don't worry about your clothes, I'll take care of everything," Lucio gasped against his throat, tightening his grip. "Just-- just let me have this. Just hold me. Please."

Oh, he was coming down so much harder than expected, on the verge of tears, probably another effect of the damn Plague. He found himself wondering if he would shove him aside if he started crying. One more stain on clothing he would just burn later. Contaminated. Disgusting.

"Is this another  _ need _ you want me to take care of?" His doctor sighed, and dutifully curled his arms around him when he quietly nodded.

It was like being held by a praying mantis, but it was more than he'd had in a while.

“I’m not making a habit of this, just so you know.”

“.. I know.”


End file.
